THE PERFORMANCE | It was the roar of a political lion as much as it was a confession. Having worked so hard to cover his tracks, yet compelled to lie not once more to the husband who loves him, chief of staff Cyrus Rutherford Beene bared all after having bared all: “I stole… the White House!”

The way those five words came out of his mouth were half-eruption, half-escape. Mostly pride, but maybe for the first time laced with shame. As James began to process the truth he feared confirmed, Cyrus sat down, no longer able to stand quite as tall. “I wasn’t made to be chief of staff… I was made to be the President of the United States. I was made to lead the nation,” he started his defense. “I would have been great at that! I have stones, I have the backbone, I have the will.” And we, having seen all that Cyrus is capable of (RIP, Amanda), can attest to that. However: “I’m fairly short, and I’m not so pretty,” he acknowledged. “And I really like having sex with men.”

As such, Cyrus settled to “be the guy behind the President of the United States,” where his work will never get his name on a library but instead earn him a nice, “respectful” life and a gig at the Ivy League school of his choice. “Fitzgerald Grant was my shot” to breathe “the rarest of air,” Cyrus explained, his eyes wetting as his mind raced up and down the path he took, the sordid steps taken, “and when your shot comes, you either take it or you lose. And I already lost enough…. I took my shot.”